️ Painting exhibition by Alexandros Androulakis and presentation of his book “The Sheikh’s Pots”

I was born unknowingly two months after May '68. I was raised in the Greece of dust, mud, strong sun, incense, and saltiness. I was educated with Mimi's apple, Paris's apple, Eve's apple, the apple that keeps the doctor away, and the apple juice they distributed in large tins. I was also educated, however, with the teacher's slap, the father's slap, and the caress of dreams. My main comfort was the lilacs of Holy Week, colored pencils, and July (Verne). I became acquainted with painting at a young age, but I married it later in life. I also became acquainted with poetry at a young age, when, in fourth grade, I wrote a fifteen-syllable poem about Athanasios Diakos, and when I proudly showed it to my teacher Skarlis, he shouted: “You write such nonsense and don't study your lessons?” and demonstratively tore up the page with the only copy. I took my tin of apple juice that they distributed to us and I was what we call “happy in the evening and shitting myself in the morning.” Of course, I didn't say anything at home, because I had some objections regarding my father's upbringing. Beautiful times! I studied Physics and Philosophy, but not in depth! Since then, I have definitively separated art from science. I have left traces in people's hearts, in taverns, koutouki, raki bars, bars, and university halls. In the latter, I have also left indelible cheat sheets with equations, laws of physics, and chemical formulas, as a legacy for future generations of copyists. Some Platos, Aristotles, and Descartes said so much that it couldn't fit on a cheat sheet. With them, future generations of copyists will find it a bit tough. I constantly leave traces, so that those who seek me can find me. And there are many. Most pass by me. I don't understand, however, why they don't see me. And I keep leaving marks. Especially these white sheets have endured a lot from me: verses, scattered ideas, serious, funny, foolish, clever, happy or sad or very sad, pencil drawings, etc., etc. I do whatever I can for them to find me. Nothing, though. And God and the devil are looking elsewhere.